seasons
by pengiechan
Summary: Seasons pass, and Tsuchiya Kirie searches for something missing, something right. EyesxKirie, manga based. Oneshot.


Tsuchiya Kirie's favorite season is autumn. She spends the majority of the year waiting for it, shivering through long winters and complaining loudly about summer temperatures, only to feel as if she's wasted it away once it arrives. She hardly finds the time to see the colorful foliage, and has typically spent much of the mild, clear days cooped up in an office or her tiny apartment.

This year, at the end of autumn, she decides that she wants next year to be different.

* * *

**seasons**

* * *

As the season comes to an end, Kirie has completed her first year of employment by the police. A few years ago, she never would have considered working in such an official capacity, but with the Watchers now dissolved, there is little else she can do. Her position is a unique one: she is the rarely-needed hostage negotatior of the department, and works primarily as assistant investigator to Narumi Kiyotaka. Her placement in the same department as Kiyotaka was certainly not by choice (she is, in fact, convinced that he somehow came up with the entire situation himself, from his return and position to her hiring and assignment), but it has been helpful for the first few months. Thanks to his efforts and her assistance, the Watchers and Savers have all but become a memory, and the remaining Blade Children have mostly been relocated to Europe for their own safety. The Hunters still exist, to some extent, but a girl Kirie knows only as Yuizaki Hiyono has evidently been working to keep them at bay... at least until the futures of everyone involved are more certain.

Working closely with Kiyotaka is a maddening thing. Kirie is relieved that there are no longer any full-body animal costumes - Madoka, it seems, won't tolerate such a thing in what is now almost officially her police department - but even the most mundane investigations of theft or embezzlement become a fiasco when he is involved. And then there are the favors he asks of her, seemingly constant tasks he needs help with... but these, above anything else, are for a good cause. With Narumi Ayumu now hospitalized, there are test results to review, recommendations to be made to the hospital staff, and new trials to be begun. Although he may not show it, Kiyotaka certainly cares a great deal for Ayumu, and is almost certainly obligated to do what he can to lengthen the younger man's lifespan. And Kirie adds these tasks to her own plate, balancing everything as carefully as she can.

And then, suddenly, one more element enters her life: as November begins, she receives an unexpected phone call from Eyes Rutherford, who has just arrived back in the country from a lengthy concert tour overseas. She hasn't seen him for over a year, and when he invites her to lunch, she at first refuses on the basis of no longer being involved with anything having to do with the Blade Children. But he persists, and her reluctance quickly turns to interest when they meet at a restaurant near her office. He has cut his hair short and wears silver-rimmed glasses - not as a disguise, he says, but because they are necessary. His entire appearance has changed to that of a mature man, and during their first lunch together, Kirie can't help but think he has become a different person, somehow. They speak only about his travels and her new position, and the topic does not even approach that of the Blade Children or Narumi Kiyotaka.

"Raza-kun," she says, just as he is rising to pay the bill, "why did you invite me here?"

"No reason," he answers her, and there is a trace of a smile on his mouth. "I thought you would like to know that I have not died yet."

"Hmm..." She leans forward, placing her chin in her hands, and looks up at him with one eyebrow raised. "Is that it? I thought you would have had a favor to ask of me, or something like that."

"Well, then," he says, and turns away, "I will ask you to have lunch with me again, next week."

"... what kind of favor is that?"

"It's the only thing I will ask of you," he says over his shoulder, and Kirie swears she can hear him laugh as he walks away. She watches him with a mix of annoyance and amusement, unsure about any motives he may have... but thinking that her year is about to become far more interesting than before. 

* * *

Winter comes soon and she begins to see him almost weekly for lunch, ducking into little cafes or coffee houses where he won't be recognized. When they meet, she warms her hands around cups of tea and complains at length about her job before hesitantly asking after the other Blade Children. At first it is a matter of making conversation, but she gradually becomes genuinely interested, listening to the latest update on Kousuke and Ryouko's progress through university or reading the most recent letter Rio has sent from Iran or Saudi Arabia. Eyes occasionally has something to say for himself, too, usually about a recent concert performance or when he plans to be out of the country again. As the weeks pass by, Kirie feels more comfortable with the idea of keeping up with the Blade Children, and feels less apprehension about the idea of their futures... assuming there will be any.

When they leave each meeting and step out into the cold wind, sometimes into whirling snow, he always places a hand lightly on her arm, as if to guide her carefully through the door. He is unfailingly a gentleman to her, never rude, and always pays for their meals. At first she dislikes this gentle nature, knowing that even the most quiet Blade Child has the potential to soak their hands in blood... but she gradually loses her apprehension, slowly becoming more comfortable with his small smiles and those careful touches on her arm. She appreciates having someone to talk to, even if she does most of the talking; she appreciates seeing someone other than Kiyotaka or her coworkers, and feels that these impromptu meetings keep her sane, somehow.

One afternoon they meet for an early dinner, on his first day back in Japan since a short tour of South America, and the snow is falling heavily as they take their seats within a cozy cafe down the street from her office. An hour later they stand to leave and find at least a foot of snow covering the earth. Kirie hesitates in the doorway of the cafe, opening her mouth to grumble about her choice in shoes for the day (she is woefully unprepared for this kind of weather) when she feels his fingers, now almost familiar, press lightly to her back. The touch seems to send a spark through her -

"Can you walk through this?"

- and she realizes it's the first time he's touched her anywhere but on her arm -

"Of course. I'll be fine."

- and as calm as she may appear, her heart is pounding like a drum behind her ribcage. She looks up at him once before they walk through the door, wading into the snow, and notices (also for the first time) that he is taller than her.

She thinks to herself: _this isn't right_. But what she means is _this isn't normal_. Even as they walk through the snow, he composed and she cursing under her breath at the chill on her ankles and legs, something about this situation feels comfortable. It isn't normal, but there is nothing about it that is wrong. It is just comfortable.

And just a moment later, when she trips and falls facefirst into the snow, and Eyes laughs at her with what might almost be genuine happiness in his voice, she corrects herself: _this might be right_. And although she does not see him again for the rest of winter, as he begins a tour of Europe, he calls her from time to time, just to check in. Their conversations are simple, never straying from the usual topics, but sometimes she feels comforted by the idea of having someone - even one of the Blade Children - care for her in this way. 

* * *

Spring arrives and there is so much to consider, so much to do, that Kirie feels overwhelmed. The Blade Children are drawing close to their 20th birthdays, and when Kiyotaka makes a request for Kirie to "keep an eye on them," she takes great pleasure in saying "no." She has already decided to fully abandon the title of Watcher; she still feels concerned about the future, about what may happen in only a few months, but feels no need to monitor the Blade Children any more closely than she already does. She knows that this may be misguided hope, but there is a reason for this.

In April, Narumi Ayumu is released from the hospital into his own care. As a result of Mizushiro Hizumi's testing, autopsy, and various other developments in the DNA field, multiple surgeries have been scheduled and completed, and Ayumu has regained use of most of his limbs. His arm is still weak and his life expectancy has yet to be determined, but it is certainly longer than just a few months, now. And his vision is still affected - he has become quite nearsighted - but when Kirie knocks on the door of his hospital room on the day of his release, she finds that he too has chosen to wear glasses.

"Just like Raza-kun," she says to the young man after he's greeted her, and smiles despite herself. "You're both idiots."

"Aah, maybe." He returns her smile, and then much to her surprise bows to her, deeply, not an easy feat on his crutches. "Thank you."

"... for what?"

"I heard that you've helped Rutherford stay positive, this year." He is still smiling as he rights himself, although the way he wears his mouth is now closer to a grin. "I know it's not an easy feat. But if he has someone to lean on, just like the rest of the Blade Children, it should be a big help."

She snorts. "Don't misunderstand what our relationship is - "

"Furthermore, I owe you my thanks for being able to leave this hospital room today." He cuts her off, the expression on his face becoming more serious. "Because of your efforts with Hizumi, and the research you've helped with... I can see the futures of Blade Children for myself." He glances over her shoulder. "And live my own life, too."

"Narumi-san? Are you almost ready?"

"Stupid girl. I told you not to call me that anymore."

Narumi Ayumu leaves the hospital with Yuizaki Hiyono (now legally Yuizaki Hiyono, thanks to some favors she has called in, and an abrupt cancellation of her contract with Kiyotaka and his rapidly dissolving agency), and Kirie watches them go with the thought that fate really, certainly, must be able to be changed.

And she thinks about her own fate for a few days, and about the fate of the person she's come to call her closest companion. 

* * *

In early May, after his touring schedule begins to die down, Eyes calls Kirie one evening and invites her to his loft for dinner. The only thing she can say is "I didn't know you could cook."

As it turns out, he has been taking private cooking lessons as a means for providing for himself when he is at home in Japan. As he explains over dinner, he has grown tired of personal assistants waiting on him hand and foot, doing everything from cooking to cleaning, and he has dismissed them all and begun doing these things for himself. He can, as Kirie finds, cook quite well, and has saved recipies for meals from nearly every country he has visited. That evening they sample Thai cuisine, and she departs his loft with the promise of an "American" meal of steak and potatoes the next time he is at home again.

Kirie wonders to herself the next morning, as she sips coffee at her desk, if it is common for piano players to also become cooks. She has heard about Kiyotaka and Ayumu, and the extent of their skills, and now the same seems to be happening to Eyes. She has also heard that Ayumu is currently working as a one-armed chef in a local restaurant, and thinks that they should visit him for lunch one afternoon.

She then realizes that she is making plans for the two of them in advance, and wonders if they are dating. The thought makes her pale and nearly spill her coffee all over her suit. Once she steadies her hand, against her better judgement, she reaches for her cell phone and dials his number. As soon as he answers she speaks: "Why are you spending so much time with me?"

There is warmth in his voice. "Have you finally realized it?"

"... what?"

"Isn't there something you want to ask?"

"We aren't," she begins, and then feels a mixture of fury and humiliation. "_Shit!_"

Eyes says nothing else, and instead laughs at her until she slams her phone shut and tosses it across her office. 

* * *

A few weeks later she comes home to her apartment and finds within her mailbox an invitation and tickets to a concert that he is holding nearby, the last stop on his tour of Japan. He has already offhandedly mentioned the idea of taking a break from touring, perhaps limiting himself only to local performances for a year or two... and that his manager has been furious with him for even considering it. He is more popular than ever, has brought piano music back into popularity all across the world, and cannot even be in public without being recognized. But the strain of constantly traveling is unignorable, and Kirie can't help but think a break, or even permanent retirement, would be the best for him. He is still so young, after all, and she has told him before that he should pace himself.

On the evening of the concert she manages to find an acceptable evening dress buried in the back of her closet, sandwiched between T-shirts she still hasn't thrown away from her time in university, and spends roughly half an hour cursing at her hair before stomping out the door five minutes before the concert is scheduled to begin. Thanks to what would certainly be called reckless driving, she arrives at the concert hall just as he walks onstage, and as the lights dim and she races for her front row seat, she swears she can see a smile on his face.

She has never cared much for classical music, and the constant swooning noises from the numerous females in the audience are enough to make her grind her teeth, but out of respect for the person on stage (just a short distance away from her) she keeps herself from turning around and screaming at them to shut up. Normally she wouldn't hesitate, but something about this hour spent in a darkened concert hall, watching him play a grand piano... she has seen him play before, in his loft, but it has never been like this; it has never been as important, never been as surreal.

At the end of the hour he stands and addresses his audience, thanking them briefly for their time and attention before announcing that he plans to halt his concerts indefinitely. The fans in attendance react with screams and howls, and somewhere nearby, Kirie swears she can hear his manager cursing without restraint. It is all she can do to keep herself from smiling, knowing that she may be the only person in the hall who does not care either way -

And then she realizes that he is looking at her, directly at her, and something stirs within her mind that whispers _somehow, this is because of you, isn't it?_

"I would like to play one final piece," he is saying, suddenly, "in dedication to fate."

He takes a seat again at the piano, and as his fingers press softly into the keys, Kirie opens her program and notices that the final piece shares her name. At that moment she is so overwhelmed, so astonished by the sound of this song and the knowing that it is because of her - that he has truly done this, all of this, because of _her_ - that she buries her face in her hands and actually cries.

She waits outside of the concert hall even after all the others have gone, her car the only one remaining in the empty parking lot, wondering if he will look for her, or call her, or even acknowledge what he has just done. She waits almost half an hour, alone, her back against the cold marble of a pillar, and somewhere in her purse she finds a crumpled pack of cigarettes. She is on her third when the double doors open and he exits, alone, his tuxedo jacket missing and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. For a moment it is hard to believe that he is barely out of his teenage years, because so much about his actions and appearance hint at an older man, someone who has gone through so much more than any normal nineteen-year-old.

"You were crying," he says, softly, just loud enough for her to hear.

"It must have been your imagination."

"Kirie."

"You're being reckless, doing something like this. If you haven't noticed, you're all over the tabloids every time you so much as look in the direction of a woman. All it's going to take is one semi-intelligent reporter to put two and two together, and if you get me involved in any gossip, I'll have to hear about it from Kiyotaka every day of every damn _week_ - " He comes closer to her, his footsteps silencing her mid-sentence, and the hint of a smile on his face is the only thing she needs to launch into a tirade. "You're being stupid, Raza-kun, really stupid. I shouldn't have come here in the first place. If you really think you're going to live, you should find some nice girl your age you can settle down with, idiot, and leave me out of this! I didn't ask you to dedicate a stupid song to me, or to your fate, or whatever it is you called it - "

In what seems like an instant he is in front of her, and the cigarette drops from her fingers onto the ground, still burning. He takes her face in his hands, gently, almost carefully, as if he is afraid he will break her. "Don't," he says, and leaves it at that. _Don't say those things_, he means, or maybe_ don't say anything_. But she has so much to say, so many words threatening to burst from her lips, and the feeling of his hands on her face is so hard to ignore in favor of rational thought. In a moment her entire composure is being threatened again, all of her feelings swirling within her like a storm, and she wants to tell him so much, say so much, so many things. She wants to tell him how she feels, but she doesn't even know what that is, only that what he is doing to her and what he has become to her is driving her insane -

"You are the only one I want, Kirie."

And she looks up at him, into those blue eyes, and forgets that she has anything to say at all. 

* * *

And then, summer.

She is in his loft one evening, watching him prepare dinner, leaning against his kitchen counter with a lollipop in her mouth. She is trying to quit smoking (again), the beginning of summer has been hot and sticky, and she is irritable. She watches him cook, spinning the lollipop in her mouth with her tongue, her eyebrows furrowed. Her mind has been a whirlwind lately, full of work matters and confusion over certain _other_ matters - particularly involving Eyes Rutherford. She wonders from time to time if she should simply stop seeing him, but when he calls her for lunch or invites her to dinner, she can never bring herself to refuse. It is a matter of feeling wanted, and even feeling flattered. It annoys her that her only friend (if she can even call him that) is one of the Blade Children, one of the children she has watched grow and evolve and fight for their lives, but at the same time -

_You are the only one I want, Kirie._

- she can't bring herself to walk away from him. They have never spoken a word of the final song in his concert, of the things he said to her on that evening, but somehow she feels that nothing needs to be said. He already knows anything that there is to know about her, and about her thoughts.

Maybe they need each other. Maybe she needs his calm composure, and maybe he needs her brashness and loud voice. It could be that their personalities, entirely opposite, are able to balance each other out. She isn't sure what he could see in her, but then again, what does she see in _him_? She has never liked classical music, after all, and his career is based entirely upon it. She has always been attracted to unruly men, ones who smoke and drink for fun, and Eyes Rutherford is nothing like this.

She leans back against the counter, bites into her lollipop, and sighs. "Raza-kun, you know... I've been spending a lot of time here lately."

"You have."

"I should just move in. You have more than enough space for me here." She sweeps her arm behind her, towards the seemingly endless rooms and hallways in his loft. "I'd save a lot on rent."

She hears him do something that might be chuckle, his back turned to her as he prepares a pasta dish (something undoubtedly inspired by a recent stay in Italy, earlier in the year). "Perhaps."

"Kiyotaka would throw a fit, though..."

"It matters very little what that man thinks." He reaches for a bottle of olive oil, his voice hardening slightly. "The last time I spoke to him, he seemed more concerned about the nature of our relationship than my health or well-being."

"The..." Her eyes go wide. "What?"

"If he hasn't already spoken to you, it's nothing to be concerned about. Perhaps he is still of the mindset that you are meant to watch me from a distance instead of visiting me in something that is not an..." He pauses, opening the bottle in his hands. "... an official capacity."

"That bastard," she mutters, and takes a savage bite out of the lollipop, "should mind his own business."

"I agree."

"But why would he - " She stops herself, realizing the question she is about to ask. _But why would he find anything wrong with this?_ she is about to ask, but there is no reason for that question to leave her mouth. She knows full well why Narumi Kiyotaka - why _anyone_ would find something wrong with the nature of their relationship. He is a Blade Child and she is (_was_) a Watcher; there is still the possibility that his blood, in a few short months, will turn him into a monster the likes of which she has never seen. And while she can certainly claim there to only be a friendship between them, by now anyone who cared to know would know that Eyes Rutherford had played a song for Tsuchiya Kirie at a recent concert, that he had all but retired from his career as a concert pianist, and that he had been seen at several restauraunts with a pink-haired woman ten years his senior.

And yet, everything that Narumi Kiyotaka would find "wrong" with this situation feels so right to Kirie that she is willing to ignore these facts, willing to change her mind and even her nature, just so she can spend more time with Eyes. No matter where it leads, she still knows that it feels comfortable, feels right.

Instead of speaking these thoughts, she stays silent, chewing slowly on the hard candy in her mouth as her eyes follow his movements around the stove. When she catches glimpses of his face, she sees that he is distracted by something, his attention not completely trained on the meal he is preparing. After several minutes she finally finds it necessary to ask: "Raza-kun... what's on your mind, right now?"

He doesn't reply right away, taking a moment to toss the contents of the pan in front of him. Almost a minute passes before he speaks, his voice low. "I have been wondering," he answers her, setting down his utensils and turning on one heel, "when you're going to call me by my proper name."

"That's what you've been thinking about?" She crushes the remnants of her lollipop between her teeth and swallows, rolling her eyes in his direction. "Is it really that important? I thought you were worrying about Kiyotaka, not something so pointless."

"No."

"I've been calling you "Raza-kun" for... two years, right? It wouldn't be right to switch so suddenly, unless - "

"Unless?" He advances towards her, and she tries to back up, automatically, before realizing she is already leaning against his kitchen counter and has nowhere to go. In an instant he is there in front of her, his body so close to her own that they will touch if she so much as breathes. Before she is even able to react, he lifts his hands and caresses her cheeks, his eyes locked on hers, those sharp sapphires that she has fought so hard to avoid recently. "Unless," he says again, and it is only in this moment that Kirie begins to tremble, "something has changed."

"Y-you... Raza - "

"Don't." She feels his fingers wind through her hair, now, his breath warm against her lips. "My name, Kirie."

In this moment she is torn, torn between tearing herself away to slap him across the face or closing her eyes and surrendering to any whim he may have with regards to her. She feels indignant, and annoyed that he would stop her to correct something as trivial as which name she uses to address him. What does it matter? What if they had been doing something else, been further -

She suddenly realizes the thought that is about to enter her mind and slams on the proverbial brakes, biting down hard on her tongue. _He is only nineteen!_

... yes, he is young, and more importantly one of the Blade Children, but it hasn't stopped her wanting. He has lured her in like a fish on a hook, baited her with the kindness and gentleness she could have never expected to be shown to her. There is almost no doubt as to what he wants from her, what it is he expects their relationship to become. He has said it aloud, after all. And as hard as it is to ignore his age with relation to her own, and the kind of relationship they have had in the past, one that certainly makes even this moment, these thoughts, entirely taboo...

She thinks it again: it feels right.

"Well, then," she murmurs, and leans into him, her lips barely separated from his own. She waits a moment, then softly, deliberately, whispers: "_Aizu_."

His name is barely out of her mouth before he kisses her, hard, his hands dropping from her hair to rest on her shoulders. The force of his movements presses her back into the counter, but it isn't as if she minds; she hasn't been kissed, much less touched so intimately, in too many years. She feels breathless and excited, and every thought of avoiding this feeling, this warm spark building in the pit of her stomach, is long gone -

And then it is over.

"Damn," he swears, pulling away from her and turning quickly towards the stove. Kirie wonders if she has ever heard him curse before; as this thought preoccupies her mind she smells, faintly, the scent of burning food. She leans back against the kitchen counter for a few seconds, as if she is in a daze, and then her senses begin to return and she feels irritated - again. Did he really start to kiss her, and then abandon her for the food he was cooking?

... he did. Now she is angry. And before she can rethink her actions, or give him a chance to speak, she whirls around, walks to the door, and leaves, slamming the door hard behind her. He doesn't chase her and she is glad, because all at once she hopes she will never see his face again. 

* * *

He doesn't try to call her, doesn't try to contact her at all, for over a week. She is mad for three days, mad that he would dare break down her defenses so much to kiss her and then so carelessly just walk away. It was as if the moment hadn't been important, as if it was a casual thing, as if it hadn't been the moment in which their relationship changed completely and entirely. It was supposed to be the affirmation of his feelings and hers, and instead it was nothing.

After the third day, she wakes up on a Saturday morning, alone in her tiny apartment, and wonders wearily if she is being too hard on him.

Well into the next week, she is sitting in her office with her head buried in case evidence when there is a soft knock on her door. She looks up and the department's tiny, timid secretary peeks her head in, smiling apprehensively, her hands behind her back. "Tsuchiya-san, I have a delivery..."

"What is it?"

"Well..." She steps into the office, bringing her hands into view, and Kirie is torn between sighing and smiling at the sight of a large (much too large) bouquet of red roses. "There's no note, but... maybe you know who they're from?"

"I have a feeling," she says, and rises to take the flowers. When the secretary departs, Kirie stands for a moment and breathes in the scent of the roses, her fingers tightening around the small glass vase at the bottom of their stems, feeling something like shame wash over her. She has been too hard on him, after all. She knows these flowers are not an attempt to apologize, or to confess any feelings... instead, they are simply his way of saying that he wants to speak to her. And whether or not it was his intention, she also feels a familiar twinge of appreciation. She remembers how she felt when she watched him sit at a piano on stage and play a song titled after her.

She has been too hard on him for a long time, she thinks, and places the vase of roses on her desk, sighing. And now something has to be done about it. Something that will involve her doing something completely out of character, for her: apologizing.

Not two minutes later, after she has returned to her work, Narumi Kiyotaka bounds into the office with a gigantic smile on his face. "Kirie-chan, did someone really send you - "

"Yes. Roses. Now leave."

"But~!"

"It's none of your business." She glances at the vase that now rests on the edge of her crowded desk. "And I don't even know who they're from. There wasn't a note."

"Kirie," he says now, and his voice has taken on a far more serious tone, "don't play. I've heard enough to know what's going on. You may not be a Watcher anymore, but to go as far as becoming involved with one of the Blade Children - "

"What's wrong, Kiyotaka?" She looks up at him, feeling her upper lip curl into a snarl, suddenly angry - but not for the reasons he may be expecting. "Aren't you convinced, yet? Haven't you realized that he's not going to lose his mind and kill me? Or are you just upset that you aren't the man in the high castle anymore?"

They lock eyes and stare each other down, neither daring to move or speak for a moment, until finally he exhales, shrugging, turning his eyes away. "I always knew you were stubborn... I won't be able to change your mind on this."

"No, you won't."

"But do you really - "

"Like I said," she interrupts him, and resumes her work, "it's none of your business."

She stays late that evening, sparing occasional glances at the roses on her desk, and the sun is beginning to set when she finally ventures out of her office, the vase held secure in one hand. When she steps outside, she wrinkles her nose at the warmth of the early evening before walking towards her car. Before she is even halfway there, she notices a familiar figure leaning against the passenger side, and her chest tightens in a way that makes her want to slap herself. Since when does just seeing him illicit such a reaction?

He doesn't seem to notice her right away, but when the sound of her heels on the concrete reaches his ears, he looks up suddenly, as if he is surprised. "Kirie."

"How long have you been waiting there?" She arrives beside him, arching an eyebrow at his relaxed pose. "I hope you didn't come here to beg for my forgiveness."

"I wouldn't dare."

"Good." She places the vase and her purse on the hood of her car before turning around to lean back beside him, folding her arms tight across her chest. "I may have already forgiven you, but that doesn't mean I don't want an explanation."

He looks at her quietly for a moment, as if he is deciding what to say, and the idea that Eyes Rutherford may actually be unprepared catches her off guard. "Look," she continues, almost made nervous by his silence, "you know you didn't have to send me flowers or anything; I already decided - "

His voice is barely loud enough to interrupt her. "I thought you would be mad."

She rolls her eyes. "I _was_ mad, idiot. Weren't you paying attention?"

"No," he says, "I thought you would be mad about what I had done. That is why I stopped." There is a pause, and he smiles, slightly, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "However... it seems you were mad because I did stop."

She opens her mouth to tell him _yes, of course, you idiot_, realizes that she is about to confirm her desire to be kissed by him, and stops immediately.

"... you aren't able to admit it, I see."

"Shut up."

In an instant he is in front of her, one of his hands reaching around her waist and the other on the back of her neck, and she barely has time to gasp in a breath before his lips are a whisper from her own. He stops there, those blue eyes boring down into hers, and the surprise renders her unable to either move or say even a single word. What seems like a long time passes before he speaks, just loud enough for her to hear. "Is this what you wanted...?"

She sighs, the sound shaky, before pressing her forehead to his. "You need to stop doing that."

He smiles. "Only if I may interpret this as permission to kiss you normally from now on."

"Hmm," she murmurs, and stands up on her toes, closing her eyes in anticipation of what is to come next. "Fine." 

* * *

A few months later, on the first day of autumn, Kirie stands with Eyes on the balcony of his loft, watching a moving company bring her furniture inside. It is a mild, clear day, and the maple trees that line the streets below are turning vivid shades of orange and crimson. Kirie breathes in the crisp air, leaning against the railing on the balcony, and smiles slightly at her companion. "I hope you know," she says, tossing her hair over one shoulder, "that the second you do something to piss me off, I'm moving out."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

"And if I'm still going to be working all week, I expect you to do all the cooking and cleaning. I'm not going to be some housewife."

He chuckles. "Of course not."

"And don't start expecting anything else just because we're living together. The day I sleep with you is the day hell freezes over and you - "

"Kirie." One of his hands wraps around hers, and when she looks in his direction, he is smiling, truly smiling, in a way that she's sure he has never smiled before this week. "One day at a time," he tells her, and gestures towards the workers inside. "Shall we?"

She sighs to disguise a smile of her own. "Fine."

They walk inside together, and Kirie spares another glance over her shoulder, towards the cool air and warm scents of the first day of her favorite season. _This year_, she thinks, _is going to be different_._ This year is going to be right._


End file.
